Merely Players
Performing gender in Shakespeare’s plays
Written and graphic by Sam Downey, Arts Staff Writer
“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players…”
This past summer, I had the pleasure of seeing “Cymbeline” at the American Players Theatre in Spring Green, WI. The production was unique in that every actor was female, an inversion of the all-male cast that would have portrayed the original show. It was a hilarious, moving and spectacular performance and one reviewer wrote that “casting women as egotistical men nudges the audience to look closer, see multiple things at once and find depth beneath the fantastical plot” (Christians, 2021).
What makes Shakespeare’s plays so tempting to mess with, gender-wise? In the years since his death, the Bard’s plays have been performed countless times—is gender simply a convenient means for a director to put their own spin on a show? Does it mean more to utilize cross-gender casting in such esteemed works within the literary canon, especially ones whose characters are so endlessly interpretable? I don’t think any of that can be discounted, but neither can the extant androgyny in Shakespeare’s original all-male casts, themes of gender performance and repeated use of the cross-dressing plot.
Cross-dressing plots appear in “Cymbaline,” and also in “Twelfth Night,” “Two Gentlemen of Verona,” “As You Like It” and “The Merchant of Venice.” It typically follows the same pattern: a woman takes on the identity of a man to run away or hide, and comedy ensues as she becomes drawn into romantic entanglements.
Since all the actors in Shakespeare’s time were male, and audiences would have been aware of this, it has been suggested that the cross-dressing plot may have functioned simply to make the actors feel more comfortable (Belsey, 2014). However, cross-dressing characters only appear in comedies with tragic heroines remaining in feminine garb for the duration of their stories.
This is not to say that cross-dressing was merely a punchline. Dressed as men, these heroines had agency and power within the setting of the play that they wouldn’t have had as women. They were able to interact with male characters on even footing, which builds a more compelling romantic dynamic and enables the marriage ending that differentiates the comedies as a genre.
Additionally, miscommunication is a central plot device in Shakespeare’s comedies, and you don’t get a better set-up than this. For example, in “As You Like It,” a male actor plays Rosalind, who disguises herself as a boy named Ganymede, who then offers to impersonate Rosalind so that the man who is in love with her can practice his flirting (Jamieson, 2019). Confusion between characters builds on the audience’s knowledge of the preexisting gendered dynamics. Unintentionally on the part of the author, unless Shakespeare was a time traveler and besties with Judith Butler, this also creates a compelling commentary on gender performance.
The cross-dressing plot is hardly the only way that Shakespeare’s plays explore gender. If characters such as Rosalind and Viola exemplify non-traditional femininities, Hamlet is perhaps Shakespeare’s most famous portrayal of non-standard masculinity. He is a character besieged by grief, either mad or performing madness or a mix of both. He hesitates. He worries. Today, he would probably be the guy wearing turtlenecks and black nail polish who mansplains his philosophy 101 class before ghosting you, but you forgive him because he’s got a messed-up family situation going on.
There is a long-standing tradition of female actors portraying Hamlet, beginning with Sarah Siddons in 1775 (Bennetts, 1982). Some played Hamlet as a female character, some played the role in drag and others left the particulars unspecified. Sarah Bernhardt, who became the first woman to play Hamlet on film in 1900, said of him that “[t]he things he says, his impulses, his actions, entirely indicate to me that he was a woman” (Bennetts, 1982).
It is interesting to compare the character of Hamlet to that of “Romeo and Juliet”’s Mercutio, especially his portrayal in Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 film Romeo + Juliet. This Mercutio, played by Harold Perrineau, dazzles in drag, wearing wigs, lipstick, skirts and heels throughout the movie, but is still loved and accepted by the Montagues and is viciously avenged by Romeo, his closest friend (Hadadi, 2020). The pointless, bloody feud between the Montagues and the Capulets can be boiled down to masculine posturing through violence.
There are far too many adaptations of Shakespeare’s works to do an in-depth reading of gender in them all, but I highly recommend seeking them out, whether in the form of recordings of old stage productions, movies such as West Side Story, or current stagings of the plays. American Players Theatre is performing “Hamlet” this summer, as well as Shakespeare’s comedy “Love’s Labor Lost” and other works such as an adaptation of Jane Austen’s novel Sense and Sensibility.
Source:
Belsey, C. (2014). Gender in a Different Dispensation: The Case of Shakespeare. DiGeSt. Journal of Diversity and Gender Studies.
Bennetts, L. (1982, November 28). WHY NOT A WOMAN AS HAMLET?. The New York Times.
Christians, L. (2021, August 16). Theater review: American Players Theatre finds humor and honesty in 'Cymbeline'. The Cap Times.
Hadadi, R. (2020, November 24). Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet is as Irreplaceable as Ever. Rogerebert.com.
Jamieson, L. (2019, June 1). Cross-Dressing in Shakespeare Plays. ThoughtCo.